


No Free Rides

by xenobia4



Series: Uncharted: The Nathan Drake Derective [2]
Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2018-12-17 05:46:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11845176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xenobia4/pseuds/xenobia4
Summary: A year after leaving their old lives behind and starting their search for information about Sir Francis Drake, picking up odd jobs and crashing at random places only gets Sam and Nate so far. Fortune seems to find them when an older gentleman allows the two brothers to stay at his home free of charge. But everyone has a price tag.





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> After playing "Uncharted 4: A Thief's End," I kept wondering what type of issues did the two brothers encounter during their younger years. Mainly before Nathan had met Sully as a fifteen-year-old. Sam was always really protective over his little brother and ::BOOM:: An idea was formed. 
> 
> A heads-up, while Nate his clearly underage in this, don't fret. There will be no non-con in this. Attempted, yes. But no contact. 
> 
> Let's just say that I had to pull some research techniques I haven't had to do since I was in college to get some accurate portrayals in this. This time, I don't have the backup of my ex-FBI professor to back me up if I get a phone call. (￣▽￣)

** 1 **

Sam tossed his backpack on a long twin bed that was situated against the far wall, opposite the opened wooden door. A thirteen-year-old Nathan stood in front of the door, his backpack still slung over his shoulder as he scanned the room, looking at the old furniture that decorated it. Two elongated twin beds took up the most space, with one against the wall near a small window and the other against the same wall as the door; an old wooden chest was at the wall towards the foot of the beds, only given enough space for it due to the angle of the roof; a dresser was next to it, its doors open to reveal nothing more than empty coat hangers. Underneath the window was another clothes chest, a brass keyhole in place on the front had Nathan wondering if it was indeed locked. The only table was a medium-sized one between the two beds, small lamps on each side and an electric alarm clock between them.

A tap on the window drew Nathan’s attention, only to see the dark arm of a tree branch, cast in shadow by the night.

“You gonna come in or stand there all night?” Sam said as he looked over his shoulder as his little brother.

Nathan shook his head and walked in, tossing his backpack on the bed and walking to the window. He set his hand on the sill and peered out to a fenced in backyard. He could not see much due to the dark and the trees obstructing his view, but for a split second, he thought he saw the silhouette of a man below. It was gone when he blinked.

“How long do you think we’ll be here?” he finally spoke.

Sam shrugged and moved around the bed, coming up next to Nathan. “Just for a little while. Until we can save up enough to keep going.” Nathan nodded absentmindedly. “This guy’s letting us crash here for free, so at least we don’t have to shell out for a place in the meantime, right?” He patted Nathan on the shoulder before going back to the bed, pushing his bag onto the floor.

Nathan pursed his lips together as he heard Sam fall down on the bed. He turned to face him. “Why is he letting us stay here, anyway?”

“No clue.” Sam reached over to open the bedside table drawer, blindingly sifting through it as he laid on his back. “Maybe he’s just a nice guy.” He took out a book, its cover blank, and began fanning through the pages.

“Yeah, right,” Nathan muttered as he sat down on the chest beneath the window.

Sam sat up, tossing the book on the table as he looked at Nathan and his little brother’s concerned expression. “All right. I know that face. What’s going on in that head of yours?” Nathan avoided eye contact as he shrugged, receiving a sigh from Sam. He got up from the bed, walked back over to Nathan and sat next to him, trying to peer into his brother’s face. “Nathan.”

Blue eyes darted to the side to meet his own.

“Doesn’t he seem kinda…weird to you, though?” Nathan asked, referring to the man whose home they were in. Sam’s response was a curious expression. “I don’t know.” A hand was placed on his shoulder.

“We’re not exactly used to people helping us out for the sake of being nice. I mean, he seems a little strange, but it’s nothing to worry about. Now come on”—he patted Nathan’s shoulder and stood up—“we’ve had a long ride. Let’s get some sleep. It’ll be nice to sleep in a bed this time.” Nathan let out a small laugh, which made Sam smile.

Following his brother’s lead, Nathan got up and walked over to the bed he would be sleeping in that night. He took his backpack and unzipped it, pulling out his sleep clothes.

* * *

Nathan groaned, turning away from the sunlight that shown through the trees into the window. He covered his head with the blankets in an attempt to block out the sun and go back to sleep, but after failing for several minutes, he pulled the covers down and opened his eyes, which landed on the clock on the table. Ten thirty-three was showing in red numbers. He sat up, stretching as he did and garnering several soft cracks in his back. Looking to the bed near the window, he saw it made and vacant with a piece of paper on the comforter. He tossed his covers off, his feet meeting the cold, wood floor as he walked over to the bed and picked the paper up.

In Sam’s handwriting was a note:

_Went downtown._

_Be back by noon._

_Make sure you eat._

 

Nathan rolled his eyes at the last bit and threw the paper down. Since they had left the orphanage, Sam was always on him about making sure he had food, even when Sam himself had nothing that day. There were times when Nathan felt more of a burden to his brother than an accomplice, but he still managed to pull his weight in both the physical aspects and the monetary ones, even if the latter was done in unorthodox ways.

As he changed out of his sleep clothes, which was nothing more than a large t-shirt his brother had given him, back into what he had worn the day prior, he thought he heard the floor outside of the door creek. He turned to see the door slightly ajar. The first thought through his head was that someone was watching him, but he scolded himself for being paranoid and reached the conclusion that Sam had probably not shut it all of the way when he had left that morning. He finished putting his shirt on, pulling the bottom of it down his stomach as he walked to the door. When he opened it, he peered out into the hallway – the empty hallway.

Again, he cursed at himself for thinking it was anything more than the house settling.

After he had his shoes on, he left the room, making sure to latch the door shut as he did. For a moment, he listened for another presence. The sound of silence with an occasional creak was all he heard.

He made his way slowly down the stairs at the end of the hall, trying to avoid making them creak. The bottom of the stairs dropped him off in the foyer, a few feet away from the front door. An open doorway to his right lead into the living room while the passage to his left opened to a hallway, which he could only assume was to the master bedroom. Not wanting to have an encounter with the owner of the house, he crossed the slate floor to the door; however, no sooner his hand gripped the handle, he heard a voice behind him.

“Nathan, right?”

Inwardly, Nathan cursed before dropping his hand and turning around the face the speaker, nodding his head.

The man, who had introduced himself to the brothers last night as Vasyl, stood in the doorway to the living room, a friendly smile on his face. Though Vasyl was not much taller than Sam, with his lean stature, he towered over Nathan, making him feel small and overshadowed. His face was creased with middle age, both his hair and facial scruff speckled with gray. The way he smiled put Nathan in a state of unease.

“Headed downtown?” Vasyl asked, stepping into the foyer.

Nathan nodded, his shoulders subconsciously going up. “Yeah. I’m meeting Sam.” His lie was convincing enough, so he thought.

“I talked to him before he left this morning. Said he was going to pick up some odd jobs.” Nathan found himself feeling somewhat aggravated at the knowledge he already knew; he could help Sam more if his brother would let him, instead of trying to do everything on his own. Sam had tried to explain to him several times that most people would not be willing to have a minor working for them without a permit, which, of course, he lacked.

And Sam wondered why his little brother had been picked up for lifting in the past. Granted, Sam had wound up in jail a few times, leaving Nathan to fend for himself for a day or two. It was those times that Nathan could not help but ask himself who Sam was kidding.

“Not going to lie: it was good timing for me to run into you two,” Vasyl’s speech penetrated his thoughts. “Places around here charge an arm and a leg just to stay a night. But I don’t mind helping out two kids in trouble. Especially with someone your age. Lot of people would be willing to take advantage of an attractive young man such as yourself.”

Nathan’s brows furrowed, but he shrugged nonetheless. “Yeah. I know.” He was hoping his dismissive tone would hide the apprehension flooding through him.

In response, Vasyl chuckled. “Come grab some food before you leave,” he said, turning to go back into the leaving room.

“Thanks, but I’m not really hungry.” He placed his hand back on the doorknob.

“No, no. I insist. You can’t leave on an empty stomach.” He began walking through the living room, Nathan craning his neck to watch him. “What kind of host would I be if I let that happen?”

Despite his mind telling him not to, he recalled what Sam had said to him last night. If his brother was willing to give the man a chance, then he could, too. Going against everything in his being, he released the handle and followed the man through the living room and into the kitchen. The smell of food filled his nostrils and his stomach released a low growl the closer he got. In the kitchen, Vasyl had a pan turned on with scrambled eggs and several slices of toast were on a plate on the bar-height wooden table.

“Go ahead and take a seat. Have some toast. I hope you like eggs. A young man your age needs to eat a lot of protein.” Nathan found himself wanting the man to stop rambling as he took a seat in the stool at the long end of the table. His heart raced and he began rethinking staying, but the smell of food was making his stomach roll and he found himself reaching for a slice of the toast. He was on a second piece when Vasyl came over and set down a plate full of eggs in front of him, along with a fork. “Want some salt or pepper?”

Nathan shook his head as he stared down at the plate, the eggs already speckled with seasoning.

He picked up the fork and pushed them around, something in his brain telling him not to eat them. He could feel the man’s eyes on him, and when Nathan’s stomach released another low growl, he found himself taking a bite.

Something in them felt grainy.

He assumed it was whatever seasoning and swallowed them down.

After a few more bites, Vasyl sat down in the empty stool next to him. Having the man close to him, anxiety began rising in Nathan’s chest and he subconsciously leaned away from him. Ignoring the boy’s discomfort, Vasyl placed his hand on Nathan’s knee; in an instant, Nathan’s entire body tensed.

“You are a very lucky young man to have someone like your brother looking out for you.” He squeezed his knee. “I’m sure he’s sacrificed a lot for you, hasn’t he?” Confusion washed over Nathan’s face and he found his eyes darting to the man with the calm smile. “And I know you probably want to help him in some way, right?” He began running his hand up Nathan’s leg to his thigh. “After all, it can’t be easy having to jump from place-to-place, sleeping in the streets and whatnot. I certainly don’t mind allowing you two to stay here until you build up some money, but it would be nice to be given a little something as an incentive.” His hand traced from Nathan’s upper thigh to between his legs.

The sound of the front door closing made the teen jump, but Vasyl sat calmly. He smiled at Nathan and took his hand back, but not before patting his leg. “Just keep this between us, okay?”

Vasyl leaned back before getting up from the stool, leaving a confused Nathan to stare at him, his expression filled with apprehension. The older man turned and began picking up the used dishes on the stove, acting as though nothing had happened as Sam walked through the kitchen doorway. He walked up behind Nathan and set his hands on his younger brother’s shoulders. With the contact, Nathan found himself almost leaning into his brother, the one place he knew he was safe. Sam did not seem to notice as he looked around him at the plate sitting in front of him on the table.

“Looks like I didn’t need to bring food, after all.” He reached across Nathan to take some with his fingers.

“You two are guests here,” Vasyl said, now at the sink, beginning to wash the pan. “I can’t not feed my guests.”

Sam nodded, appreciative. “Thanks, but we really don’t want to cause you any trouble.” He patted Nathan’s shoulder, who took the incentive to stand up, making sure to stay close.

Vasyl turned to face them, his demeanor welcoming. “It’s no trouble, really. I couldn’t just leave two kids out in the streets. Would you like me to fix you something, too, Sam?”

Mentally, Nathan was hoping his brother would decline the offer – anything to get away from this man as quickly as possible. To his relief, Sam shook his head. “No, thanks. I grabbed a bite before I came back.” He knocked his arm into Nathan. “Speaking of which, come on, Nathan. I found something you might like.”

After a short goodbye, the two teenagers left the kitchen, Nathan making sure to stay as close to Sam as possible, feeling Vasyl’s eyes on him as they exited. As they left through the front door, Nathan asked himself whether or not to tell Sam what had happened. Yet, what the older man said to him would not leave his mind: Sam had sacrificed a lot for him. Hell, his brother sacrificed almost everything for him. The least he could do was put up with Vasyl and the man’s uncomfortable touches if it meant that Sam did not have to worry about where they would stay or whether or not they would even eat that day.

He owed so much to his big brother.

And if that meant making a sacrifice, then so be it.

“Here,” Sam said, handing Nathan a helmet as they now stood by Sam’s motorcycle.

Nathan stared at it, turning it around in his hands. He frowned. “Since when do I have to wear a helmet?”

“Since I got a ticket for you not having one, now come on.” He got on the bike as Nathan groaned. He put it on, but fumbled with the straps under his chin, unable to buckle it. Sam laughed before helping him latch it. Nathan grumbled a thanks as he sat behind Sam, holding onto his brother’s shoulders as the bike started up.

As Sam pulled out onto the road, Nathan found himself wrapped his arms around his brother’s stomach and setting his head on his back. The thought of Vasyl made his stomach twist into a knot and the constant motion of the bike was not helping. He tried to focus on something else and wondered where they were headed, what Sam was so eager to show him. Maybe he had found a lead on the secrets of Sir Francis Drake and they would be on their way to the next town by nightfall – something to get them out of town and away from the man they were staying with.

The very thought made his stomach churn.

The eggs in his stomach suddenly felt heavy and nausea washed over him. He swallowed, his saliva becoming thick. His grip around his brother increased and the action had Sam slow down.

“You okay?” Sam called back to him.

Nathan nodded, but the wave refused to subside. He could feel the food wanting to come back up his throat, but by the time he realized he needed Sam to stop and pull over, it was too late. He had turned his head just in time, the eggs coming up as he vomited onto the side of the road. In a moment, Sam had stopped the bike and pulled off to the side of the street, all of his attention focused on his little brother.

He helped Nathan off of the bike, guiding him to a row of bushes along the sidewalk as more came up. As his brother coughed and spit, Sam was able to take the helmet off with one hand, tossing it to the side.

“I really don’t feel well, Sam,” Nathan groaned as Sam held him around the shoulders, guiding him to the ground.

“Guess the eggs were bad, huh?” Another groan left Nathan, though it was one of annoyance at Sam’s lame attempt at humor. He began running his fingers through his brother’s hair as another wave came up. “I’ll take you tomorrow, okay?”

Nathan fell against him, his heart pounding as he tried to calm himself. He shut his eyes, attempting for force the nausea away as he monitored his own breaths, something he had picked up when he had food poisoning a year back when he and Sam had eaten what turned out to be spoiled meat from a gas station. At that time, both of them were miserable, but damn if Sam did not try his best to make Nathan a little less uncomfortable, despite also puking for nearly twelve hours.

Sam began rubbing his back, nodding to a couple that walked by them, disgust on their faces.

“Everything’s fine! Thanks for asking!” he called after them before rolling his eyes. He turned his attention back to Nathan, who dry heaved before spitting up bile and toast. “Come on, little bro, let’s get you rested.” A noise of discontent was the answer he received.

Nathan would have rather stayed on the side of the road than go back to Vasyl’s house, but he was in no mood to protest as Sam helped him to his feet. He was made to sit on the front of the seat while Sam retrieved the helmet. He put it on his little brother’s head, but did not bother to buckle it. He got on, Nathan between his arms as he turned the bike around, heading back towards the house.


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A year after leaving their old lives behind and starting their search for information about Sir Francis Drake, picking up odd jobs and crashing at random places only gets Sam and Nate so far. Fortune seems to find them when an older gentleman allows the two brothers to stay at his home free of charge. But everyone has a price tag.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait. I was had training for the past few months and couldn't work on this. This chapter is longer and is more intense. After all, I kept y'all waiting, so I might as well make it worth it!
> 
> As I mentioned in part one, while Nate his clearly underage in this, don't fret. There will be no non-con in this. Attempted, yes. But no contact. 
> 
> Okay. I'm done babbling.

**2**

The front door slammed shut as Sam ushered his little brother upstairs to the room they had been allowed to occupy. Nathan was shaking, his stomach twisting as his eyes lined with tears from the consistent puking; but with Sam rubbing his back, even though they had returned to the house he wished they had vacated, he found solace. As they made their way to the bed closest to the door, creaking was heard from the kitchen below them.

Nathan groaned while he laid down on top of the covers. Sam retrieved a small trash bin and set it next to the bed before sitting on the edge, rubbing Nathan’s back. Another moan escaped his little brother’s throat.

“I’m really tired…. Please don’t leave me,” Nathan said, his voice quiet.

A small smile crossed Sam’s features. “I’m not going anywhere, Nathan.”

“Promise?”

Even though his brother’s eyes were closed, Sam nodded. “I promise.”

Sam continued rubbing his back, watching over him until Nathan’s small grunts became silent and his breathing became even. He sat there for a few minutes, shifting to run his fingers through Nathan’s hair.

While he was out, he had picked up a job running errands for a local business. The owners were kind enough, promising to pay him off the books as long as he proved trustworthy. They gave him until noon to sort out anything he needed to before requiring him back to start making deliveries around town. Unfortunately, it appeared that he would have to forgo the offer – Nathan was always his top priority and his brother needed him there.

A knock from the door drew his attention.

Sam looked up to see Vasyl in the doorway.

“Is everything all right?” the older man asked, voice sincere.

“I think your eggs are bad.” The eldest Drake forced a smile as he drew his eyes back to his brother. Vasyl’s expression was sympathetic. He entered the room, walking up to the bed, looking at Nathan, who’s breath was slow.

“Were you able to pick up any jobs this morning?”

“Yeah. Making deliveries for a store downtown.” The older man nodded, but Sam’s demeanor was apprehensive. Before he pressed, Sam continued with, “I have to be back by noon.” There was a moment of silence the clouded the room, sans a small groan from Nathan as he subconsciously curled tightly into the foetal position. Seeming to have made up his mind, Sam brought his gaze back to Vasyl. “Do you have a phone I could use?”

He nodded. “Of course. It’s in the living room.”

With another look to Nathan, Sam stood up to follow Vasyl out of the room; but not before Nathan turned in the bed, somehow grabbing the comforter and entangling himself in it.

The stairs creaked and groaned as the duo walked down to the foyer and made the right into the living room. It was the first time Sam found himself taking note of how it looked and why it appeared out of place, something which he could not figure out earlier that morning when had the chance of seeing it for the first time. The beige carpet looked as though no one had even walked on it until their arrival, only given by the off-colored footprints that led back-and-forth from the kitchen to the entryway. A green and brown couch was pushed against the large set of windows facing the front yard while a matching loveseat sat perpendicular to it, separated by a wooden table with a lamp and an old rotary phone – something neither him or Nathan had seen outside of antique stores.

There was no television in the room. Come to think of it, there did not appear to be any modern technology that they had seen. The digital clock in the room they were residing in appeared to be the most up-to-date electronic.

Sam thanked the man as he picked up the telephone receiver. As he rotated the first number, Vasyl’s voice cut through the air.

“Will they mind you calling out so soon?”

Sam paused briefly, and then put in the second digit. His concern was growing. He had spent all morning going from business to business, trying to find someone willing to give him a job. He was hoping they would understand the situation, but even he knew how it would sound. Just a homeless kid making up an excuse to see if he could get away with it.

His finger circled another number.

“If it’s your brother you’re worried about, I don’t mind watching him. It’s my fault he’s sick – it’s the least I could do.”

He could not ask this man, who had already done so much for them, to do even more.

“I just don’t want you to have to forgo an opportunity.”

Right as the phone began to ring, Sam hung up the phone. He released a noise of aggravation, running his hands through his hair and down his face. He set his hands on his hips. “I am really sorry about this.” With his eyebrows up in earnest, Vasyl waved him off.

Once he checked on Nathan again, gave Vasyl the store’s contact information and made sure he still had the key to his bike, Sam stood in the opened doorway in the foyer. With a glance from the second floor to Vasyl, he could feel his chest weigh heavy. The last thing he wanted to do was leave his brother in his current state, but he could not risk losing the only job he was able to get, and he was sure Nathan would understand. He would only be gone a few hours and Nathan would most likely be sleeping the remainder of the day.

“If he wakes up—”

“I’ll be sure to call the store and let you know.”

Sam nodded, still filled with trepidation. With one last glance to the stairwell, he thanked Vasyl again, shutting the door behind him.

* * *

 Small groans and whines filled the guest room as Nathan twisted in the sheets. As he got his arm free from the covers, he instinctively reached out, only to feel empty space on the bed. His eyes opened to slits to see no one next to him. With a load moan, he rolled onto his back and, shutting his eyes as he listened for traces of other lifeforms. All he could hear was silence. He could feel his chest sink, remembering Sam’s promise to not leave him alone and beginning to become upset of his brother’s lack of presence.

Maybe he was overreacting.

It was more than possible that Sam was downstairs talking to the creep-of-a-man, Vasyl.

The thought gave him a sense of ease.

However, that sense began to fade when he sat up in the bed and realized his shirt was gone. He quickly calmed himself down, rationalizing that he most likely had vomit on it and Sam had taken it off. A verbal sound of relief escaped his mouth. Once out of bed, he manoeuvred to his backpack and took out another shirt, this one a bit more worn than the other with an apparent hole in the front of it. As he put it on and pulled it over his bare stomach, a creak came from outside the door.

In an instant, his heart shot to his throat and her snapped his head towards the door.

It was slightly cracked, slowing swinging back on its hinges, creaking as it did. With his brow furrowed, Nathan inched towards it, trying to peer through the small crack to see movement or a shadow. When he reached it, he grabbed the handle and swung it open only to expose a bare hallway. He stuck his head out of the room, looking down both ends – the hallway was empty.

He cursed at himself for his paranoia.

Moving back into the room, he looked to the clock between the two beds. It registered a quarter after five in the evening – over six hours since he had gotten up that morning. Outside the window, the sun was already setting. After putting his shoes on, he contemplated leaving the house if Sam was no longer there. Although he did not want to leave the room, the urge to make sure Sam was still at the house forced him to walk into the hall. If Sam had left, and he was hoping that was not the case, perhaps the man was also absent, leaving the house vacant.

He inched his way down the wooden floors, careful not to make them creak as he reached the stairwell. Listening carefully, when he heard nothing coming from downstairs, he took the opportunity to descend. However, when he reached the front door and placed his hand on the handle, he found it to be locked. Furrowing his brows, he went to unlatch it only to realize the door had a keyhole facing him.

What type of madman would have a door that locked internally?

His heart began pounding in his chest, every ill thought running through his head. He attempted to shake it away, trying to rationalize that perhaps the man – Vasyl – was paranoid about living alone and had locks on both sides of the door. He tried to listen for any other lifeform in the house, but heard nothing. Curiosity raging through him, he inched his way into the living room. Heart dropping to his stomach, Vasyl sat on the couch, a book opened in front of him. Sensing the young boy’s presence, the middle-aged-man allowed the book to drop from his view as he met eyes with Nathan, a smile gracing his face.

“How are you feeling?” he asked with a strange sincerity.

Clenching his jaw, Nathan shrugged. “Fine. I – um – where’s Sam?” he stuttered, desperate to know where his big brother was and why he was not with him like he had promised.

Returning his gaze back to his book, Vasyl turned the page. “He had to go back to work, so you two could survive on your own.” The statement jolted Nathan to the comment Vasyl has made that morning – how Sam had made so many sacrifices for them to stay afloat. He bit his lower lip and stared down at his feet. “Don’t worry, Nathan,” Vasyl commented, causing the young Drake brother to look up at him. “Sam told me to take care of you.” The look he gave to the teenager made him uncomfortable and he found himself stepping backwards to escape the room. Vasyl closed his book and set it down next to him on the couch. “Come here, Nathan,” the tone he used made the young teen feel as though he was a dog being beckoned. “I explained to your brother how it was only fair that you two thank me and he agreed.” Being reminded of their earlier conversation had Nathan clamp his eyes shut and shake his head violently.

In an instant, he turned on his heel and ran up the stairs, back to the room he and Sam were allowed to use. He slammed the door behind him, turning to face it as it latched and listening to know if the man was following him. When he heard the lower stairwell creak, he began looking frantically around the room. Eyes moving to the window, in a moment, he climbed onto the check underneath it and began trying to push it up.

It failed to budge.

Yet, when he went to unlatch it, he realized there was no latch and, instead, nails had been hammered through both the top and bottom of the pane. He could feel his face growing hot as his heart pounded. He would have to break the glass if he had any hope of escaping the room, but as he began scouring the room for something to use, the door creaked open. His heart caught in his throat, his entire body tensing as he felt the unwanted presence blocking the doorway. The floorboard groaned as Vasyl took a step into the room.

Nathan faced him, his back pressing up against the wall in a failed attempt to put as much distance as possible between them. Despite the young teenager trembling with his eyes wide, the older man stood weirdly calm, an odd smile on his face, trying not to appear as threatening as he was. He held his hand out, his shoulders forward as he leaned towards the younger Drake brother.

“I won’t hurt you, Nathan. I’d never hurt someone has pretty as you. Here,” he walked over and sat down the edge of the bed. “Come sit down and we’ll just talk. We can have a simple conversation, right?”

On the verge of tears, Nathan’s mind flipped over itself.

The front door was locked from the inside and, if the window in this room was nailed shut, there was a high probability that more windows were sealed off in the same manner. He found himself reflecting back on what Vasyl had said that morning – how much Sam had sacrificed for him, never once complaining about Nathan tagging along since they left the orphanage. Even though he knew having the extra mouth to take care of weighed heavily on his brother, Sam never made him feel like a burden.

Not wanting Sam to have the added stress of trying to find another place for them to stay, Nathan found himself walking to the bed and taking a seat next to the fully-grown man. He sat just as ridged as he felt – his shoulders hunched, legs pressed together, eyes staring at his lap. He tensed further when Vasyl set his hand on his thigh.

“Tell me what’s on your mind, Nathan,” the man said, voice oddly sincere. He gave his thigh a light squeeze, causing Nathan to press his legs together even more.

Searching in front of him, his eyes darted to the man, seeming to realize how much older and larger Vasyl was compared to himself. Jaw taught, he drew out, “What about Sam?”

Vasyl smiled down at him. “You don’t have to worry about your big brother. Both of you can continue to stay here to get off the streets and have a nice, warm bed to sleep in until you have enough money to move on.” His grip tightened on the teenager’s thigh as he slid up further towards his groin.

Feeling his eyes tear up, Nathan stared up at him, slowly shaking his head. “But I don’t want to,” his voice cracked.

Vasyl reached across him, position himself in front of Nathan as his other hand traced Nathan’s cheek. “You don’t want to be back on the streets, do you?” Even with the malice behind the question, his tone was filled with earnest.

Clamping his eyes shut, Nathan shook his head, his chest shaking as a tear slipped from his ducts.

Taking the response, Vasyl pressed his mouth to Nathan’s, kissing him gently as Nathan kept his mouth and jaw tightly closed. He let his hand on his thigh run up to his groin, rubbing Nathan through his jeans as the young boy pulled his head away, keeping his eyes clenched as Vasyl moved to start kissing and sucking on his neck. He grabbed the older man’s arms as Vasyl pressed forward to have them fall back on the bed.

When Vasyl began unbuttoning his pants, Nathan started shaking his head violently as he released a loud cry. He started pushing against the man, but his size gave him no leeway and the middle-aged man chuckled into his ear.

“You’re so cute,” he whispered before he nipped at Nathan’s earlobe. “Just relax. I won’t hurt you.”

When his hand slipped beneath Nathan’s jeans and underwear and began fondling his genitals, the cries Nathan was trying to supress gave way as tears ran down his face. With one hand down the front of the young boy’s pants, Vasyl ran his other up Nathan’s shirt to his nipples. He started rubbing and pinching them, to which Nathan’s response was to start hitting the older man’s shoulders and arms; however, it did little to dissuade him, whereas his small size appeared to have no effect, other than the man telling him to calm down.

Right as Vasyl began running his middle finger around the entrance to his anal cavity, they both heard a click.

“Get. The fuck. Off. Of my brother.”

In an instant, Vasyl stopped as he felt the cold steel of a weapon pressed against the back of his head. He removed his hand from Nathan’s underwear, peering down at the tear-strewn face of the thirteen-year-old underneath him.

“Sam, we were just tal—”

“I SAID GET THE FUCK OFF HIM!!” Sam yelled in unprecedented rage, digging the barrel of the gun against the man’s skull.

Slowly, Vasyl rolled off Nathan onto the bed, leaving Sam to reach down, take Nathan by the arm and pull his younger brother to his feet, positioning him behind him. In an instant, Nathan wrapped his arms around his big brother’s waist and buried his face into the back of Sam’s jacket as his breath hitched in his throat. He stepped back, pushing Nathan towards the opened door, his hand holding the pistol unwavering as he kept it directed at Vasyl’s forehead. His eyes darted to their backpacks, which still sat against the leg of the bed closest to the window. With his eyes dark, he motioned to them with his head. “Toss them to me,” he demanded, voice low – threatening.

As Vasyl stood up from the bed, Sam took a few steps backwards, keeping enough distance to where the man would not have time to take the weapon from him. He could feel Nathan’s grip now on the back of his jacket and on his unused arm. Feeling his little brother shaking, another wave of anger swept through him and he had to fight back the urge to empty the gun’s clip into the paedophile as Vasyl picked up their bags from the floor.

“I said toss them!” Sam shouted when Vasyl took one too many steps towards them.

“All right. No need to shout,” Vasyl said, voice managing to stay even, despite having a loaded gun aimed at his chest.

Both bags landed at Sam’s feet.

Without dropping his arm, Sam leaned down to snatch them, eyes not once leaving his target. “Nathan,” he said with finality. “I want you to go downstairs and go outside.”

His heart beat hard in his chest, skipping when he felt Nathan shake his head no. Before he could repeat himself, his chest stung at what his little brother said next.

“I can’t. It’s locked from the inside.”

Hearing Nathan’s shaking and cracking voice as he told him, the rage he had be trying to hold back rose to the surface.

This man – this _pervert_ – locked his brother inside the house, not thinking Sam would find a way inside, with the sole intention of—

In an instant, he crossed the room to where Vasyl stool, grabbing the man and shoving him to the floor as he pressed the pistol against the man’s neck. The backpacks sat where he stood guarding his little brother, who was now standing by himself, his face red and eyes puffy with an expression of fear, anxiety and regret. Sam’s face was filled with pure, unadulterated rage as he brought the pistol back to slam it against Vasyl’s head. Not once, but twice.

Three times.

Four times.

Five times.

He lost track of how many times he sat on the man, beating him with the butt of the gun, but by the time he stopped, not only was blood pouring out of the man’s mouth and nose, but Sam’s knuckles had been cut open, making it to where it was impossible to tell whose blood belonged to whom.

The next thing he knew, he was ushering Nathan down the stairs and towards the kitchen, where Sam had gotten into the house by climbing through the window above the sink. He made sure Nathan went first before he followed, making sure to toss their bags out. Once in the grass, he grabbed Nathan’s arm and pulled him around to the front of the house, where his bike sat right inside the perimeter by one of the bushes. Not a word was spoken between the two brothers as they climbed onto the bike. While Sam was desperate to leave the house to get as far away from his wrath as possible, Nathan took Sam’s silence as an ill omen.

In his mind, Sam was upset with him for allowing Vasyl to advance as far as he had and now the two of them were out of a place to stay, once again.

Sam did not stop the bike until they were miles outside of the town – and the only thing that made him stop was that he had heard naught a word from his little brother, which had his concern growing after the anger managed to die down.

When he stopped the bike, Nathan just held onto him, his arms wrapped around his waist with his face buried into his back. Inhaling deeply, he stared at the handles of his bike, worried his tone would sound harsh when he spoke.

“Nathan, this is not your fault,” his voice came out firm, reassuring.

But when Nathan failed to respond, Sam managed to release the breath he was unaware he had been holding. In an instant, Nathan climbed off the bike, walking in haste away from Sam, down a sidewalk they had stopped close to, which was drenched in the glow of streetlights.

Sam left his bike to fall onto the cement as he ran after his brother, ignoring the clank of metal and steel. It only took him a few strides to catch up and, when he moved in front of his brother, it was then he saw Nathan’s face strewn with tears and regret. The moment they made eye contact, Nathan crossed his arms and tore his gaze away.

“Nathan,” Sam said, which only made Nathan’s avoidance more apparent. “Nathan, look at me,” his voice came out demanding. Shoulders hunching, Nathan looked up at his brother, though his chin stayed to his chest, making his eyes appear larger than they were. “You know that, right?” Again, Nathan did not respond. That was until Sam released a sigh.

Nathan’s tension appeared to increase – his body tightening as he began to dig his nails into his arms from where he had them crossed. The look Sam gave had Nathan’s eyebrows furrow upwards, trying to stop from tearing up. With his breath catching in his throat, he finally spoke:

“We’re stuck outside because of me,” his voice cracked as a few droplets slipped through.

Sam’s reaction caused Nathan to flinch, whereas his brother laughed awkwardly.

“And you think I care?” he laughed in disbelief, setting his hand on the side of his little brother’s head. He cocked his head down to peer into his face, a soft, reassuring smile on his face. “I’d rather sleep on the streets for the rest of my life than let something happen to you.” Nathan’s eyes darted to meet his – meeting Sam’s soft expression and caring eyes. “You’re my little brother. You know what that means, don’t’ you?” When Nathan shook his head no, Sam released an airy laugh and placed his hands on the other’s shoulders. “It means”—he drew out—“that if someone messes with you, they’re messing with both of us. And I don’t know about you, but I don’t like being messed with.” At the comment, Nathan breathed out a laugh, which made Sam smile. “Now come on.” He put his hand on his brother’s upper back, turning them both back towards where the bike lay. “I still wanna show you what I found.”

With his older brother’s arm moving to wrap around his shoulders, Nathan subconsciously leaned into the only place of comfort he had known since their mother’s passing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Added in post)  
> While I had intended to write a third chapter, it's come to my realization that this story is best left at two chapters. 
> 
> The story I wanted to tell has been told and I feel like adding a short epilogue will ruin the vibe.   
> Mainly because the epilogue would struggle to reach a page in length and there would be no reason to upload something so short and call it a "chapter." At least not for me. 
> 
> Again,  
> I apologize to those who wanted a final chapter.   
> If I ever do get around to writing and posting it, I will.   
> But please do not expect it. m(__ __)m


End file.
